


Sleep is for the weak

by lemonypond



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Light-Hearted, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonypond/pseuds/lemonypond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye thought she'd get some sleep. She was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep is for the weak

“Skye?” a soft accented voice asked in the dark. 

“Hmm? Simmons is that…ah.” Skye answered, fumbling for the lamp on her side table, her voice croaking with the sleep she was just awakened from abruptly. 

“It’s not what you think,” Simmons whispered. 

“You really don’t want to know what I’m thinking,” her tone didn’t match her words though. It was almost impossible to be mad at Jemma Simmons. “Wait, what did you think I would think?” 

“That there was an emergency?” Simmons asked as she tip-toed to sit on the edge of Skye’s bed. “Wait, what did you think I would think that you would think?” Her face scrunched up in genuine confusion. 

Skye stifled a laugh behind a huge yawn as she stretched her arms. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. What’s up? And also what on earth are you wearing?” she pointed at Simmons accusatorially. 

“Hmm?” Simmons looked down at her sweater, tee, and shorts. “Oh this? It’s one of Fitz’s old sweaters. I nicked it,” she said proudly. “He shrank it in the wash ages ago so it doesn’t fit him anymore and it’s just so soft and warm and-“ she rambled on in the dark. 

“-And why are you wearing it?” Skye asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Whose bunk did you just leave?” 

Simmons did not pick up on what Skye was saying. “Mine,” she stated factually. Then she did pick up on what Skye was saying. “OH MY GOD! SKYE! NO!” She whisper-shouted so as to not wake anyone else up on the plane. 

Skye shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. So what’s bringing Dr. Simmons into my bunk at-“ she glanced at the clock on the side table. “Three forty two in the morning!?!? Really Simmons? Your non-emergency couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” 

Simmons ignored her protestations and glassy eyed glare. “Well it is about Fitz, since you brought it up.” 

Skye could not resist the innuendo. “Pretty sure I’m not the one that brought Fitz up.” The smirk she was suppressing was twitching at the corners of her lips. She had considered using air quotes, but Simmons would have definitely picked up on the phrasing if she had. Sometimes subtlety was best when talking with Simmons. 

“Yes you did, you asked about this sweater,” Simmons replied, pulling at the soft blue and grey sweater as she wrapped it around herself tighter. 

The smirk flickered again; Skye had to work extra hard to reign it in when she was this tired. “What about Fitz?” 

“Well he’s been acting weird lately. Have you noticed him acting weird?” Simmons knit her perfectly groomed brows together in concern. 

Skye sat up straighter in the bed, pulling the comforter taut around her legs, sighing heavily. “You woke me up at three forty in the morning to ask me if Fitz has been _acting weird_?” 

“Mmmhmm,” Simmons nodded emphatically. “Has he? It’s not just me is it?” 

Skye wanted to tell the woman with two doctorates that ‘yes it is in fact just you, in fact it’s just _about_ you. He wants you, you absolute twat.’ Skye wasn’t sure if that was the correct use of ‘twat’ but she desperately wanted to try it out. She was punchy when she was woken up in the middle of the night. 

The smirk threatened the corners of her lips again. Skye sat there for a moment, contemplating how to placate the nervous Simmons sitting in front of her in a way that would both satisfy her inquiry and allow herself to go back to sleep. “I think he’s just getting cabin fever-we’ve been on the Bus without any of the comforts of home for quite some time now.” She looked at Simmons, examining the concern drawn all over her flawless skin- _really how does she do that?-_ and saw that she was genuinely troubled by this. Skye thought it was only a matter of time, much like the zit she felt forming under the surface of her chin. She would have to ask Simmons what her secret to skincare at nine thousand feet was, but later; right now all she wanted was to sleep. 

“You think that’s it?” Simmons fiddled her fingers between the loosely knit yarn of the sweater, not entirely convinced, but willing to take Skye’s observation into consideration. “I don’t know…” 

“Definitely. Now can we go back to bed now?” Skye was on the verge of begging. 

Simmons drew her lips up into a cheerful grin; it annoyed Skye how cheerful she was at this hour. Then she realized that, knowing Simmons, she had probably been up all night analyzing everything Fitz has said and done in the last few months. She felt a pang of guilt; eventually one of them would crack and realize that they had romantic notions for each other. Then Skye laughed mentally for using the phrase ‘romantic notions’ in her head. She really wanted to sleep. 

“I suppose. Thanks for listening,” Simmons said, patting Skye’s leg as she got up to leave the room. She slid the door shut with a soft click. Skye threw herself back onto the mattress, bringing the comforter with her. She softly chuckled for a few moments, then turned off the lamp and the pleasant sound of silence filled the room once more and she drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep. 

 

Thump. Thump. “Skye? You awake?” A quiet, accented voice came through the door. Thump. Thump. “Skye? Please don’t sleep naked, I’m coming in.” A soft click indicated that her door was opening. 

Skye awoke with a start. “Hmmm? Who’s th-FITZ?!?” His eyes were shielded in case she were naked. She looked at the clock as she clicked on the lamp. It read four forty two. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as Fitz tip-toed to sit on the foot of her bed. “Relax Fitz, I don’t sleep naked, you can put your hand down.” She rubbed her eyes and imagined the dark circles that would be obvious in the morning. “What’s up, Fitz?” Skye fought the urge to throw her pillow at him as the words poured out of him. She could have sworn she just had this conversation. 

It was going to be a very long night.


End file.
